


A Battle of Wills

by dettiot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bratva is trying to move into Star City.  Oliver knows this requires the captain, not the mayor. XXX Felicity knows something is going on with Oliver.  She follows him one night and gets an eyeful--and that's only the tip of the iceberg.  Season 5 spoilers/speculation</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Battle of Wills

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by THAT PHOTO. Requested by nvwhovian, plot brainstormed with weareallstoriesintheend.

Using all the knowledge he had acquired--from his years on the island, from his grudging work for Amanda Waller, and through his Bratva experience--Oliver Queen moved in the shadows, making his way towards a seemingly-deserted warehouse in the Glades.  

Tonight, he wasn’t Mayor Oliver Queen, a man dedicated to saving his city and making it strong again.  Tonight, he was Oliver Queen, captain of the  Solntsevskaya Bratva, ready to defend his territory and prevent the captain known as Kirill the Bloody from moving in.  After three preliminary challenges from Kirill’s flunkies, tonight was the faceoff with the man himself.

Luckily, he felt prepared for the challenge that Kiril presented.  He was close to the best shape of his life, nearly in the same condition he had been in when he was in Russia.  His core was strong and steady, his pecs bigger and more muscled than they had ever been.  His stamina and endurance had gotten better.  He felt ready.  

It was all thanks to the quiet nature of Star City summers.  The lack of criminals, despite Damian Darhk’s jailbreak, was something that could be depended upon as much as widespread attacks gripping the city every May.  With extra time on his hands, he had been able to focus on his workouts, use them to relieve the stress of being mayor.  

And the still-gnawing hole in his heart where his love for Felicity lived.  

Oliver pushed aside the thoughts of Felicity as he pushed his hair out of his eyes.  Being mayor took up so much time, he hadn’t even had the time for a haircut.  And apparently, the longer hair was testing well, so his staff hadn’t bothered him to cut it yet.  

If he really thought about what his life was now, he’d get whiplash.  Because . . . here he was, preparing to face off against a dangerous member of organized crime, while his hair was a poll question for the people of Star City.

And now he was at the warehouse, so he had to stop thinking about being mayor, stop thinking about Felicity, stop thinking about anything other than this fight.  

Summoning all that he had learned, Oliver walked into the warehouse, his boots thudding softly against the cement floor.  He brushed past the men ringing the door and lining the walls, walking straight towards the center of the large, echoing space.  A few banks of fluorescents, right above him, made a ring of light in the middle of the floor.  

The conversations came to a stop as Oliver took his position.  He looked around, feeling the coldness and hardness fall over him.  Then he drew down the collar of his henley, revealing his captain’s star.

“I am Bratva.  I am a captain.  And I will not be challenged,” he said in Russian, speaking the traditional words before a duel began.  

Because this was what it was: a duel.  And while Kirill had brought plenty of his men, Oliver had no one with him.  No one to serve as a second, no one to offer support or strategy.  He had no role within the Star City Bratva cell.  But he was still their captain, and he would not stand for any new blood to trickle its way into his city.  

“I am Bratva.”  The words were spoken in Russian tinged with a Georgian accent, showing Kirill’s origins.  

“I am a captain,” he continued, the crowd parting as he approached Oliver.  A tall, thickset man maybe a few years older than Oliver himself, Kirill looked like a man who had risen through the ranks and held his position for several years, which he had.

“And I will not be defeated,” Kirill said, sliding his unbuttoned dress shirt off his body, revealing his muscled torso.  

But Oliver knew he was stronger than Kirill.  Not just in terms of muscles, but in terms of his determination and confidence.  

He pulled his henley over his head, tossing it aside.  He heard the murmurs of the other men, commenting on his physique, but Oliver only cared about Kirill’s reaction.  

The other man arched an eyebrow.  “This will be a duel remembered, I think.”  

Oliver tilted his head in acknowledgement.  “Then let us begin.”

The other man grinned, a spark of bloodlust flashing in his eyes.  Then, faster than Oliver had expected, he closed the distance between them and aimed a blow for Oliver’s face.

XXX

Oh, this was  _ such  _ a bad idea.  

But at least she had swapped her heels for a pair of flats before she had left the lair, so at least when she was running for her life, she could run as fast as she could?  Which wasn’t very fast, admittedly--the elliptical was her gym machine of choice, not the treadmill.  And Oliver had kept telling her that running was a great cardiovascular exercise that you could do anywhere--you didn’t need a gym--but she had always found a way to turn the tables on him about better forms of cardiovascular exercise.  

And  _ why  _ was she thinking about last summer when she and Oliver weren’t together anymore?  Hadn’t been for months?

_ Because you made a mistake.  Because you want to start over with Oliver.  Because you’re worried about him, and that’s why you’re out in the middle of the Glades, following him. _

If it was possible to glare at your brain, Felicity was doing it right now.  This wasn’t what she needed right now.  She needed to concentrate on tracking Oliver without tipping him off that he was being followed.  And that was a tough thing to do, but Felicity had an ace in the hole: security cameras.  

She watched as he moved deeper into the Glades, carefully moving as he moved.  Anyone who was watching her probably thought she was a very stupid Pokemon Go player, letting herself be sucked into the dangerous part of town in her pursuit of ‘gotta catch them all’.  But she wasn’t trying to catch them all--just one man.  

Something was going on with Oliver.  She had noticed him limping a few times over the last two weeks, moving stiffly in a way that spoke of hand-to-hand combat.  But it was summertime in Star City--the quiet time.  He went out maybe once a week now, just keeping an eye on the city.  With everything Oliver was doing as mayor, he was too busy to do more--and his work as mayor was already bearing fruit.  

Which made her so proud and impressed her so much, yet she hadn’t found a way to tell him that.  Maybe after tonight, she could?  Felicity didn’t know.  And really, the important thing about tonight was figuring out what was going on with Oliver.  

Through the camera feeds she had on her tablet, she saw Oliver circle one warehouse.  She thought she had lost him, until she ran the footage back and realized he had gone inside.  Looking around, she picked up her pace and moved towards the same building.  There were no cameras inside--if she wanted to know what was happening, she would have to go inside.  

All her instincts were screaming about how bad an idea this was, but her curiosity was too great.  Her concerns were too pressing.  So Felicity slipped into the warehouse, staying back against the wall.  

There were perhaps twenty men in the warehouse, but none of them seemed to notice the small blonde woman who had sneaked in.  All their attention was focused on the ring of light in the center of the warehouse, where two men were moving.  

Were fighting.  

One of them was tall and dark, a beard that was filled with sweat and blood covering the lower half of his face.  Yet his mouth was stretched in a wide smile as he fought his opponent, all elegant and efficient power.  

The other man was less graceful, more blunt force.  His blows kept knocking back the bearded man’s head, he rained punches against the man’s abdomen without mercy.  Sweat flew from the ends of his unruly mop of hair as he punched and dodged.  

Felicity felt her mouth go dry at the sight before her.  

Because the second man was Oliver, and he was magnificent.  

He had been working out more in the past few weeks, she knew.  Without any Green Arrow action, he had to find some way to burn off energy, to relieve stress.  But she had no idea he had gotten in this kind of shape.  He might be even more impressive looking than he had been when she had first met him, when she hadn’t been able to not ogle him as he worked out around her.  

But now?   _ Oh. My. God. _  HIs chest looked broader than ever, his pecs were huge, and his abs were as amazing as ever.  His hair, which she thought was too long, was flying around his face and  _ working  _ for her right now.  

As impressive as his body was, though, what kept her from looking away was just how . . . how  _ primal  _ he was.  She had watched Oliver fight over video feeds for hours, knew his style and approach.  But fighting this bearded man, Oliver was different.  There was an animalistic power about him, a lack of doubt or restraint, that she had never seen before. 

It made her intimately aware of her own body.  Of her softness, of her curves, of the parts of her that were growing warm and wet and sticky as she watched him.  

This shouldn’t be making her hot.  Yes, Oliver’s body had always been a turn-on for her, but watching him beat another man bloody?  That had never been a kink for her before.  

And then, Oliver pulled his arm back and landed an absolute bomb of a punch on the bearded man’s jaw.  Even from this distance, she could hear the impact of bone on bone.  The dark man’s head snapped back and his body just dropped to the floor in a completely anticlimactic fashion.  

Pressing her hand over her mouth, Felicity moved backwards, further into the dark corner, and waited to see what would happen now.  

Hoping she wasn’t going to see Oliver be killed in front of her eyes, for defeating the other man.

XXX

Panting, his hands throbbing with pain, a cut over his eyes leaking blood, Oliver looked around the ring of men.  Their eyes held just the right amount of fear mixed with hard-won obedience.  

“As the winner, I demand that you leave this city immediately.  Tell your boss, when he wakes up, that he is not welcome in Star City.  I am Bratva and I control this city,” Oliver said, spitting the Russian words out around the blood in his mouth.  When no one moved, he barked, “Leave!”

That made the men scatter.  Two of them lifted up Kirill, putting an arm over each of their shoulders and dragging him out of the warehouse.  Oliver watched them, using all his strength to hold himself still.  Not until he was positive they had all left did he let his head fall forward as he sunk to his knees.  

God, he hurt all over.  Kirill had fists like hammers, and a wily approach that had made Oliver feel like he was always a second behind.  But he had determination on his side.  And when he realized there was no way to beat Kirill without totally embracing the side of himself he hadn’t shown since Russia, Oliver hadn’t hesitated.  And he hadn’t held back.  

But the aftermath was going to be rough.  He wasn’t even sure how he was going to get to his car, let alone drive to the loft and repair the damage.  

Suddenly, he heard the patter of footsteps.  Light and quick, not a man’s--

Looking over his shoulder, Oliver felt his blood run cold when he saw Felicity.  

“Oliver!” she gasped, skidding to a stop in front of him and crouching in front of him.  She put her tablet on the ground and delicately cupped his face in her hands.  “Oh my God, you need a hospital!  You’re bleeding everywhere!”

“Felicity, what the  _ hell  _ are you doing here?” he asked, feeling a fury he didn’t think he was capable of--at least not towards her.  But he was absolutely furious at her for being here.  At knowing she had probably watched what he had done, that she had seen him be a monster.  

“I followed you,” she said, tilting his face and looking into his eyes.  “Do you think you have a concussion?  I don’t know how you couldn’t, with the way that guy was punching you.  What was going on?  It was Bratva business, I knew from the Russian, but what’s happening?”  

Jerking his head out of her hands, then wincing from the pain that bloomed in his temples, Oliver gritted his teeth.  “You followed me?”

Not bothering to wait, knowing it was going to hurt regardless, Oliver pushed himself to his feet.  Because he needed to be standing up for this.  “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?  To me?  Because if they had found you, they would have shot you in the head and then done the same to me!  And that would be the best-case scenario, Felicity!”  

Something snapped in her eyes and she straightened up.  Without heels, she didn’t even come to his shoulder.  Yet just like always, she didn’t let the height difference make her feel cowed.  She set her hands on her hips and glared at him.  “Excuse me for being concerned about you!  I knew you had been fighting  _ someone _ , and  _ not  _ as the Green Arrow.  And if I tried to talk to you, you’d just brush me off.”  

“This was none of your business,” he said harshly.  “I’m none of your business.  You made that clear in the spring.”  

He had to be cold.  Had to be harsh.  Because . . . she was concerned about him?  Why?  How?  Ever since the team had broken apart, his contact with Felicity had been strictly professional.  And with how busy each of them was, between his mayoral duties and Felicity’s work to regain Palmer Tech, they hadn’t exactly been spending their precious free time together.  There had been a few days in the lair to clean it up, then a few nights of patrol, but she had given him no sign that she saw him as anything but her ex that she was choosing to work with, on behalf of the city.  

There had been no signs that she actually cared about him, Oliver, the man she had once loved, the man to whom she had said yes.  

“Oh, you are so wrong,” she protested, looking up at him.  “You are my concern!  I’m always going to worry about you--I’m always going to care about you.”  

“‘Care about me’,” Oliver echoed, putting a sarcastic twist on the words.  Knowing he was being ugly and unfair, but just not able to stop.  Hating this side of himself coming out like this.  But as much as he thought it was hopeless that they would ever get back together again, it wasn’t hopeless.  Not as long as they were both were alive.  But tonight, that could have changed--and that thought made him scared to death.  And angry as hell.  

“You are so infuriating!” Felicity yelled, stomping her foot.  “Don’t you realize I’m trying to tell you I still love you?  That I want to start again?”

XXX

As soon as the words left her mouth, Felicity felt mortified.  And embarrassed.  And ashamed.  Oliver didn’t deserve to find out like this.  He deserved to have her explain all the thinking she had done, the late-night talks with her mother, the long conversations over brunch with Curtis and Paul . . . everything she had done to figure out the ways she had been in the wrong, the ways she had let him down as he had done the same to her.  And how none of that mattered when compared to how much she loved him.  How much she wanted him in her life.  How much she would never find anyone to compare to Oliver.  

She had tried.  She had dated, thinking that she had to show she was moving on.  She was the one who had initiated the break-up, after all.  She was the one who had to be okay with what had happened.

But Felicity wasn’t fine.  She wasn’t ready to move on.  And it was because she couldn’t let Oliver go, just like he couldn’t let her go.  

Yelling at him in the middle of a dirty, abandoned warehouse, with Oliver bloody and sweating, wasn’t how she imagined telling him the truth.  But the truth was out now, and she would have to--

“Mmmph!” she moaned as Oliver wrapped his arms around her.  How had he closed the distance between them so fast?  Oh, God, he felt so amazing--she had missed being held by him--

“Felicity, you mean it?” he asked, his forehead pressed against hers, staring into her eyes.

“God, just kiss me,” she pleaded, moving her hands to his shoulders--how had they gotten even broader?--and going up on her tiptoes.

He gave a little shake of his head.  “My mouth is full of blood,” he said, her stupid noble wonderful hero.  

“I don’t care,” Felicity told him, before she yanked him down and kissed him.  

And . . . oh.  

It was perfect.  Hot and loving, passionate and raw, strong and tender . . . it was everything a second first kiss should be.  Even with the taste of blood in Oliver’s mouth, even with the uncomfortable angle. 

“Oliver,” she panted against his lips, her fingers digging into his sweaty skin.  “Oliver, I love you.”  

She could feel his shoulders go up and down as he breathed hard, could feel the trembling in his arms around her.  God, she loved him, and she couldn’t believe she had ever made him doubt that.  No matter the mistakes he had made, no matter her own fears, she would never again let him doubt how much she loved him.  

HIs hands ran over her back, then cupped her ass, making her moan against his lips.  And then he was lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically, even as she asked, “Oliver--are you up for this?”  

The smirk that bloomed on his face was just, oh, it was too much after everything else that had happened tonight.  “I’m up for this,” he said, grinding against her and making her moan.  

“You--you are calling out sick tomorrow,” Felicity insisted, holding on to him as Oliver backed her up against a wall.  “Me, too.  We’re not getting out of bed.  And I’m gonna fix that cut, and I’m gonna take care of you, and oh, yeah, sex.  Lots of sex.”  

“Stop talking, Felicity,” Oliver said, his voice so full of love and tenderness and passion and hope, she felt her body shake.  

“Oliver,” she moaned, kissing him.  

Against her lips, he murmured softly, “I love you, Felicity.”  

And then he was somehow sliding inside her, Felicity having no idea of when their clothes had gotten out of the way, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered except her and him, except them being together, joining and starting over.  

Felicity held on to him tightly, never wanting to let him go.  Feeling him move against her and inside her, her body burning up for him, so ready to come apart around him and knowing he would be there to catch her.  

“Oh--oh, Oliver . . . I love you . . . you’re everything to me,” she babbled, feeling herself coil tighter and tighter.  

He rocked against her, putting a little twist on the movement, and he hit a new spot inside her, one that made her see stars.  And just like that, she was climaxing and falling apart.  

Dimly, over her own high-pitched cries, she heard his grunts, felt his body spasm and thrust deeper as he came, too.  Felicity clutched at him, hoping she wasn’t hurting him, even though she knew if she said anything to him, he would deny until his dying day that he was hurting.  

If she had her way, his dying day wouldn’t be for a solid fifty years at least.  And fortunately, she had a lot of tools at her disposal to make sure of that.  

Cuddling into him, she lightly kissed his neck.  “I wasn’t going to tell you like this.”  

“No?” he asked, his voice rumbling against her chest.  

Shaking her head, Felicity lifted her head and gazed at him.  “I was going to ask you to dinner.  Try to recreate our first date, right down to opening up to you in a new way.”  

A soft, content smile flashed across his face.  “I liked this way.”  

Giggling, she kissed him and shifted against him.  “Let’s go back to my place.  Or your place.  Whoever has the better first-aid kit.  And then we’ll get started on staying in bed.” 

“You have the best ideas,” Oliver said, returning her kiss and then gently bending to let her feet touch the ground.  She saw the lines on his face, how he was hurting, and she adjusted her clothes and then went to get his shirt.  

“Good, because my next idea is telling you just how beautiful you look right now, and proving it by kissing you all over.”  

Heat flared in Oliver’s eyes, and he drew her in for a long, hot kiss.

And as she kissed him back, Felicity knew that there was no one else she wanted to go toe-to-toe with more than Oliver.  

End.

 


End file.
